


Across the Stars to the City of Lights

by tentativesapling



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Chloe is nice in this, F/F, F/M, Fate and Destiny, I am allergic to creating original ideas sorry, like shes still... chloe but she uses her cattiness for good, some light lukanette, this is literally just Your Name but. In France., this was just in my head and I HAD to get it out
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-18
Updated: 2020-11-08
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:55:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25980097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tentativesapling/pseuds/tentativesapling
Summary: Adrien Agreste leads a humble life in a small town, stifled by his father and his responsibilities. Marinette Dupain-Cheng lives in the heart of bustling Paris, trying her best to make it through school and follow her dreams of being an architect. Impossibly, their paths begin to cross. As their destinies weave closer together, they begin to unlock parts of themselves they never knew existed.(As I said in the tags this is just Shinkai's Your Name film but with miraculous ladybug characters. Please enjoy!)
Relationships: Adrien Agreste/Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Adrinette - Relationship, Alya Césaire/Nino Lahiffe, Chloé Bourgeois/Sabrina Raincomprix, lovesquare - Relationship
Comments: 19
Kudos: 9





	1. What a Strange Dream

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to this crossover that was living in my head.  
> Adrien lives in the small town of Luxeuil-les-Bains with his brother Plagg, his grandfather Fu, and his (cold and estranged) father Gabriel. Chloe and Sabrina are his closest friends. I took some liberties with the familial relations of the characters here but I feel like it works. Marinette's life will be explored in chapter 2!  
> The overarching plot and most of the dialogue belongs to the movie. The characters belong to Miraculous Ladybug. (I don't own either of those things!) The writing itself is all I can claim, and I obviously took some liberties with certain plot points/conversations to make it fit the au better. Hope u enjoy sorry for long notepost lol  
> ALSO ADRIEN HAS LONG FLOWING HAIR IN THIS FIC, sorry forgot to mention that but it's Important

It was beautiful, the day the stars fell. Like a vision out of a dream, nothing more and nothing less: an awe-inspiring phenomenon of the cosmos. A blazing comet, streaking across the sky in celestial shades of blue and purple, and among the strands of stardust in its wake… one single streak of red. Red rushing down, down, through the clouds toward verdant forest and sparkling water, red splitting the air like a knife. And riding that air, a fluttering strip of embroidered lace. In harmony with the sound of the comet, a voice. 

_My name… is Adrien!_

Marinette woke with a start. Breathing in deeply, she felt a tug in her heart. What had she been dreaming about? There had been light, and a voice… someone talking to her… what was it they had said? And what had she seen? Whatever it had been, it had left a strange melancholy mark in her mind. Her chest felt tight, but not unpleasantly. She let herself feel the air flowing in and out of her lungs. Although she knew it would be time to get ready for her commute to school soon, she couldn’t bring herself to shake off this emotion quite yet. Listening to the cicadas and birds just starting their day outside the window was enough. 

_Wait_. Birds? There were no sounds of songbirds in Paris, and no cicadas either for that matter-- the only morning sounds Marinette knew were honking car horns and buzzing scooter engines. She sat bolt upright. This wasn’t Paris.

One look around told her that this wasn’t her room, either. She brought a hand to her heart in surprise and stopped short. The familiar softness of her chest was gone, and in its place was… muscle? She must have been dreaming. She _had_ to be. Cautiously, she ran her hand from her chest down her side. If this was a dream, it sure was a realistic one-- the contours of muscle sliding under her fingertips certainly felt real enough, perfectly taut and--

“Bro! We’re gonna be late for-- Hey! What are you doing?”

Marinette jumped. There was a little boy standing in the doorway of her room-- no, the doorway of this room that it was becoming clearer by the second was _not_ hers-- staring down at her with wide dark eyes. 

“Are you still asleep or something?” The boy shook his head, tossing his black bowl cut into an unruly tangle. “Come on! It’s time for breakfast!” He slammed the door. 

_Bro?_ Did that mean that she-- whoever she was-- was this kid’s brother? 

As if in answer to her thoughts, an accented, elderly sounding voice rang down the hallway. 

“Plagg, is your brother awake?”

“Yeah, he’s just sitting in bed touching his abs like a weirdo!”

 _Like a-- hey!_ Marinette threw off the last of the covers and stood up, taking in her surroundings. Wide open window, school uniform swaying in the breeze, light glimmering off a mirror onto a neatly organized desk. Marinette took a step forward. Even if this was a dream… she might as well see what she looked like. Two more hesitant steps led her to the mirror, and as she glanced into it her heart skipped a beat. 

In front of her stood a boy she had never seen before. Clear green eyes stared back at her from under fine, light lashes. His torso was bare. Marinette shivered, and her motion was reflected. She watched the boy’s muscles, soft and lean, slide under sun kissed skin. His hair-- _her_ hair, she could feel it flutter across her shoulders as a breath of air came in through the window-- framed his face and settled on his shoulders like strands of silk, shining gold in the morning light. 

_What a strange dream._

* * *

Adrien yawned, pulling his hair into a knot at the top of his head and tying it with a thin strip of bobbin lace. As he stumbled to meet his brother and grandfather at the breakfast table and began shoveling rice into his bowl, Plagg punched Adrien’s arm. 

“Ow! What was that for?” Adrien rubbed his arm indignantly, pulling his rice closer to his chest. He looked to his grandfather for appeal, but the small old man’s face stayed passive, eyes trained on his own meal.

Plagg laughed. “Slowpoke! I had to make breakfast all by myself this morning!”

“Relax, I’ll make it tomorrow!” Adrien sighed as he settled his legs under the table. After a moment of silence had passed, the old man spoke up. 

“You’re looking normal today.” 

“Huh?” 

Plagg smiled. “Yeah, you were acting crazy yesterday!” he reached a short arm up to give Adrien’s hair knot a tug. “You even went to school with your hair down, do you remember that?”

Adrien’s face paled. “I-- I what?”

“And you didn’t tuck in your uniform shirt!” 

“ _What?_ ” 

Before Plagg could say any more, the radio in the corner of the kitchen sang a short, pleasant tone. A woman’s voice crackled through the air. 

“Good morning, citizens of Luxeuil-les-Bains! This is an announcement regarding the upcoming Mayoral Election! The election will take place on--”

The announcement stopped abruptly as the old man unplugged the radio without a word. Adrien stared stonily into his bowl. The hum of cicadas continued to float through the air as the sun shone brilliantly on outside, oblivious to the chill that had fallen indoors. 

Finally, Plagg sniffed. “Just make up with him already!”

“It’s an adult matter,” Adrien sighed. “This is between me and dad.”

Their grandfather switched on the TV. Footage of a comet filled the screen, and a news anchor with perfectly coiffed hair was in the middle of a report about the celestial event. 

“Adult matter, huh?” Plagg talked over the TV reporter. “I’m probably more of an adult than you! How many girls have you kissed, anyway? None, right?”

“ _Excuse_ me?”

In response to Adrien’s mortified stare, Plagg only laughed and inhaled the last of his rice, jumping up from the table and heading toward the door. “Gotta go!”

“Hey-- wait!” Adrien stuffed his rice in his mouth and lurched forward after his little brother, barely remembering to grab his schoolbag before flying out the door. Plagg was already several meters down the street, still laughing as he ran further from Adrien. 

“Don’t follow me, bro! I’m meeting my friends!” Plagg called, sticking out his tongue.

“Fine!” Adrien shouted back, returning the gesture. He took a deep breath of the clear morning air as Plagg turned the corner. He hoped today was going to be a good day. 

“Hey!” A bicycle bell sounded, accompanied by a whir of tires. “Adrien!”

Adrien turned around to look up the lane with a smile. “Sabrina! Chloe!”

Chloe brought her bike to a stop with a squeal of brakes as Sabrina leaned forward to greet Adrien. 

“Good morning!” 

Adrien smiled as Chloe grimaced. “Hey, I’ve driven you far enough. Get off, already!”

“Aww, why?” Sabrina pouted.

“Because you’re heavy, okay?”

“Fine, meanie!” Sabrina hopped off the back of Chloe’s bike and the three of them fell into step. 

“You know,” Adrien laughed, “you two really do make a good couple.”

“W-we do not!” Sabrina stammered, hiding her face in her hands. 

Chloe sniffed. “That’s ridiculous! Utterly ridiculous!”

Adrien only smiled, picking up his pace. The old city buildings loomed up before them, parapets and porticoes galore. 

“Hey!” Chloe called after him. “Someone remembered to do his hair today.”

“Huh?” Adrien stopped. “Me?”

Sabrina gave him a quizzical look. “Yeah. Did your grandfather exorcise all the weirdness out of you or something?”

“Exorcise?”

Chloe pointed her nose in the air. “I’m sure Master Fu hardly has time to worry about exorcising his strange grandson with all the work he does running the museum and the bath house.”

“ _Strange_?” Adrien echoed in mock resentment. 

“Yeah, something weird totally got into you yesterday!” Sabrina put a tentative hand on Adrien’s shoulder. “I know you’re probably stressed enough already because of all this stuff with your dad going on. Just… tell us if you need anything, okay?”

Adrien gave a forced chuckle. The three of them walked in silence for a moment, the only sound the echo of their footfalls on the stone buildings surrounding them. As they turned the corner, however, Adrien stopped short. A small crowd had gathered in the courtyard area of a nearby building, listening to the incumbent Mayor give a reelection pitch. Chloe gently pushed Adrien forward. 

“Come on. We can just walk right by.”

Adrien nodded, but as they started moving again he couldn’t help overhearing scattered mumblings from onlookers at the back of the crowd. 

“Damn Agreste’s getting another term…”

“I heard he’s been giving out the pork, if you know what I mean…”

Adrien focused on Chloe’s hand leading him onward, but a louder comment caught his attention. 

“Hey, look at this!”

He looked up. A few kids from his class stared back at him. 

“What do you think of that, Kim?” A girl with blunt brown bangs asked her friend in a comically loud whisper. “It looks like the mayor’s son is getting pretty cozy with the contractor’s daughter!”

The boy-- Kim-- snickered softly. Chloe gritted her teeth and took a step forward, but Sabrina grabbed her arm. Adrien turned away and walked faster, head down. 

The drone of the Mayor’s speech stopped abruptly. Adrien’s blood ran cold. 

“Adrien!” the Mayor barked. “Stand up straight when you’re walking!”

Shoulders stiff, face burning, Adrien straightened his spine. He met his father’s eyes at the podium, and a chill ran through him. Gabriel Agreste’s face was a mask of ice. 

Sabrina grabbed Adrien’s wrist, snapping him out of his trance. With a polite nod in Mr. Agreste’s direction, she dragged both Chloe and Adrien away from the crowd, down the street to the school. 

*****

“Two-light. That is the origin of the word ‘twilight.’” Ms. Bustier circled her writing on the chalkboard as Adrien flipped through his notebook. He was still feeling embarrassed about the encounter with his father this morning. To be scolded like that in front of everyone…

“It’s dusk, the time the worlds of night and day collide. Some might call it Golden Hour, or even Magic Hour.”

Sill flipping through his pages, Adrien stopped. There was something written in an unfamiliar handwriting on one of the pages. Flipping back to where he had seen the writing, his eyes widened in surprise. The page held only one phrase, written in large yet delicate letters: _Who are you?_

“So, for this next question… Agreste?”

“Ah-- yes!” Adrien jumped to attention, slamming his notebook shut. 

The teacher chuckled warmly. “I see you remember your own name today.”

The rest of the class giggled, some even turning to Adrien with amused looks on their faces. He gave a sheepish smile, scratching the back of his neck. Just as he was opening his mouth to stumble through a halfhearted joke, however, the bell in the hallway rang loudly.

“Well, Mr. Agreste,” Ms. Bustier smiled, “it looks like you’re off the hook for today. See you all after lunch!” 

With a sigh of relief, Adrien shuffled into the hallway. Catching sight of Sabrina on the stairs, he squeezed through the crush of students and followed her and Chloe to their usual spot outside on the school’s lawn. 

“Even Ms. Bustier seemed to know something was up!” Adrien sighed, unwrapping his sandwich. “She said I couldn’t remember my own name!”

“So you seriously don’t remember what happened yesterday?” Chloe asked, leveling one of her carrot sticks at Adrien. “Like, at all?”

“No, I--”

“It was wild!” Sabrina jumped in. “you came to school with full bedhead and everything, and you couldn’t even remember where your desk and locker were!”

Adrien shuddered at the image. “Wow… no way…” He shook his head. “I really have no idea what could be going on, but… now that I think of it, I have been having some really weird dreams lately? It’s strange, it almost feels like they’re about someone else’s life.”

Sabrina gasped, adjusting her glasses. “I got it! Maybe they’re memories from your past life! Or-- oh! Maybe it’s your consciousness exploring other facets of the multiverse in which--”

“Shut up, Sabrina!” Chloe interrupted. “As if. Adrien’s just stressed. We all are.”

Adrien turned to Sabrina curiously. “Wait, don’t tell me you’re the one who wrote in my notebook?”

Chloe rolled her eyes. “What are you talking about? Why would anyone write in your notebook?”

Adrien lowered his eyes back to his sandwich. “Ah… forget it. You’re right, I’m probably just stressed.”

Chloe snapped a carrot stick in two, handing one half to Sabrina. “You’ve got that event at the bath house coming up too, right?”

“Agh, don’t remind me!” Adrien buried his head in his hands. “I’m so sick of the bath house! I’m sick of this town! I can’t wait to graduate and go to Paris as soon as I can!”

“You’re telling _me_ ,” Chloe grumbled. “There’s nothing here! There’s only one train, and all the shops close at 9pm!”

“No bookstores,” Adrien added wistfully.

“Nobody dateable!” Chloe quipped back. 

“Hey!” Sabrina stood up from the bench she’d been eating on. “Forget all that! Let’s go to a cafe!”

Chloe jumped up, eyes wide. “A cafe? Where?”

“During class?” Adrien was skeptical. 

“Sure!” Sabrina grinned. Let’s go!”

Not five minutes later, the three of them stood faced with a vending machine on the sidewalk next to a convenience store. The disappointment in the air was palpable. Finally, Chloe broke the silence. 

“You call _this_ a cafe?”

“You guys know this town doesn’t have a cafe,” Sabrina mumbled. 

Adrien sighed. “Hey, guys? I think I’m just going to head home. Thanks for the adventure though,” he smiled.

Chloe and Sabrina waved him goodbye, and as he walked away Adrien heard Chloe ask, “So, Sabrina… what do you… I mean, where do you think you’ll go after you graduate high school?”

Sabrina was silent. By the time she answered, Adrien was almost too far away to hear. 

“I don’t know. I guess I’ll probably just stay in this town like I always have. 

*****

Adrien sat curled up on the carpet, weaving strings of thread back and forth. This lace pattern was one he hadn’t tried before, and he gripped his pins precariously between his lips. One more stitch and… that was it! He stuck a pin under the stitch and started on the next. _One over, two under--_

“Ugh!” Plagg groaned. I wanna do what you guys are doing!”

Their grandfather looked up from his needle, sighing. “You are not yet ready, Plagg. You must create a connection with the thread. When you wind it around the bobbin, feelings will begin to flow between you.”

Plagg dropped the bobbin he was winding to the floor with an air of contempt. “You’re joking. It’s not like threads can talk.”

Adrien shot his brother a tired smile. “He’s just telling you to focus, okay?” 

Master Fu hummed in affirmation. “Indeed. Making lace is a task which demands focus. The lace of Luxeuil-les-Bains holds many centuries of tradition and eminence. Under the Second Empire, when Napoleon the third visited Luxeuil with his wife--”

“Here he goes again,” Adrien whispered to Plagg with a conspiratorial look. His brother stifled a laugh, and Adrien grinned in spite of himself. 

“Our unique style of lace has been admired for centuries. It was almost lost in the late twentieth century, but the establishment of this museum is what has preserved it for so long. That is our job: keeping the tradition alive.”

“Yes, Grandfather,” Adrien answered dutifully.

The old man appeared not to have heard, as he continued speaking without pause. “That is your duty, as well as mine, and you must understand its gravity. That son in law of mine, however…” he let out a huff. “Refusing to help with the museum is bad enough, but _politics?_ That man is incorrigible.”

* * *

Chloe stared fixedly into her glass of iced tea, trying to focus on the homework spread across the kitchen table in front of her rather than the raucous chatter coming from the sitting room. Her father and his associates were surely plotting something devious on the other side of that door, and Chloe did not, thank you very much, care one bit to find out what it was. Unfortunately, it didn’t matter if she cared or not; she could hear every word the men spoke. Earlier in the night, alcohol had begun making the rounds in the living room, and once they had gotten their hands on it, there was no going back. Their voices rang through the house, buoyed by drink.

“Have another, Mr. Bourgeois. I know I can trust you to help me in the coming election.”

That was Adrien’s father, deep voice silkier than usual from the alcohol yet still strangely commanding.

“Of course, Mr Agreste!” Chloe’s father let out a boisterous laugh, and she grimaced. “You can count on me.”

Chloe groaned. “I can just smell the corruption.” 

“What was that?” Her mother gave her a hard look, turning sharply from the kitchen sink. Chloe opened her mouth to mutter a retort, but the kitchen door slammed open behind her before she could speak.

“We need more beer in there,” Mr. Bourgeois leaned against the doorframe, a loose smile on his lips. As he stumbled toward the sink, he glanced at Chloe over his shoulder. “You’re helping out at the site tomorrow. We’re using explosives, so be prepared.”

“As if,” Chloe whispered under her breath.

“Excuse me?”

“Yes, daddy.” 

“That’s what I thought.” Mr. Bourgeois nodded and made his way back to the living room. Chloe set down her pencil with a huff and stood up, leaving her homework on the table. She desperately needed some air, to get away from the deals and deception passing back and forth just a wall away. Slipping off her shoes as she mounted the stairs to her room, she breathed deeply. She’d left her window open that morning, and the clear air of the countryside wafted through the upper floor, drawing her close. Reaching the window, she sat down on the sill, tucking her legs carefully over the edge. She sighed as the breeze skimmed her toes, weaving the ribbon from her ponytail. As she stared over the city, feeling the first delicate chill of autumn, a light caught her eye. 

She could just see the glass roof of the bath house glowing soft and golden from within. Adrien would be working, she knew. On the second tuesday of every month, the bath house was closed to all except the sick and elderly, and it was the job of Adrien and his brother on these occasions to bathe those who could not bathe themselves, helping them enjoy the healing power of the springs. Chloe sighed again, thinking of Adrien. He had dreams, they all did, that didn’t involve staying here in Luxeuil for the rest of their lives. But responsibilities were responsibilities; Chloe knew that as well as anyone. Nothing, she thought, had the power to change her destiny. As high school third years their supposed freedom was fast approaching, but each day dragged on and on. Chloe worried she would never graduate-- and even if she did, what if her family wouldn’t let her see the world?

With all these thoughts and no one to voice them to, she turned to the night as her confidante. 

“I guess we both can’t stand it here,” she breathed.

The cool air and dimming lights of the town gave no response. 

Fed up with wallowing, Chloe gave a huff and carefully slipped out the window altogether, gripping the sturdy bricks of the house and shimmying down to the ground. This was ridiculous, she thought. Talking to the night! Ha! She had responsibilities, sure, but she also had friends to help her forget them. Friends that would respond when spoken to, unlike the mute yet comforting breeze. Bare feet be damned, she was going to find Sabrina, she decided. They would then go to the bath house, where Adrien would no doubt want company and distraction after his job was done. 

Sure enough, when Chloe knocked on her door, Sabrina was more than willing to join her, no questions asked. They walked the darkened streets in comfortable silence, the soft scuff of Sabrina’s loafers the only sound. Finally, when they were close to the bath house, Chloe spoke up. 

“Are you sure you just want to stay here? After graduation, I mean?” 

Sabrina hesitated, kicking a stone along the sidewalk. “I guess… I haven’t thought about it, really. I don’t have any big plans. I suppose I’d just like to… to be wherever you are.”

“Oh.” They had reached the bath house. Chloe’s mind spun in circles, wondering what Sabrina had meant, but before she could follow her train of thought any further a group of people silhouetted in the light from the bath house caught her eye. Before Chloe could wonder aloud who they were, Sabrina had already started in their direction. As she caught up to the small group standing on the bath house lawn, Chloe could hear snickering and muttered words as they peered through the glass.. 

“Oh my god, do you see that?”

“He actually has to touch him? How embarrassing!”

Anger took root in Chloe’s stomach, and she pushed one of the onlookers aside. “And what do you think you’re doing?”

The girl she’d pushed-- the same girl from that morning, Chloe realized, blunt brown bangs and a wicked smile-- widened her eyes in innocence and confusion. “We’re just watching the show! I mean, look at him,” she gestured toward the glass, toward Adrien behind it, helping a hunched old man into the bath. “I’d never want to touch a naked old man like that, not in a million years!”

“Yeah, Lila’s right!” another voice chimed in. “It’s so weird! I can’t look away!”

Sabrina frowned. “It’s not weird! It’s compassionate!”

“Not that you people would know anything about that,” Chloe added, her anger showing through with a bite to her voice she hadn’t anticipated. “Adrien’s our friend. You don’t get to talk about him that way. You don’t get to stare at him through glass like he’s an animal in a zoo! He helps people who can’t help themselves, and what do you do? You laugh at him? You’re ridiculous! Utterly ridiculous!”

Sabrina nodded, crossing her arms next to Chloe. “You should leave.”

Lila laughed nervously. “Like I’m going to do anything you tell me to--”

“Leave!” Chloe and Sabrina spat in unison. 

Grumbling, the group stalked off. With a sigh of relief, Chloe took Sabrina’s hand and started towards the front of the building, but not before making eye contact with Adrien through the window. Her heart sank as she realized what that meant: he’d most likely seen the whole thing. 

They sat on a bench by the entrance, hands still clasped, waiting for Adrien. Chloe wasn’t sure why she hadn’t let go, but Sabrina hadn’t either. She was okay with that, she thought. The encounter by the windows had left them both shaken. She lost track of how long they sat there, hand in hand, watching the stars come out before Adrien and Plagg burst through the entrance, arguing. 

“Come on, who cares if a couple dumb kids saw you!” Plagg slapped Adrien on the back. “It’s not like _you_ were the naked old man!” 

“I might as well have been!” Adrien groaned. “Must be nice for you, not feeling embarrassment--” he stopped, noticing Sabrina and Chloe. “Ah-- hey guys!”

“Hey.” Chloe stood up, and the four of them fell into step. “How was it?”

Adrien groaned. “Same as always, except for those jerks from school.”

“Hey!” Plagg darted out in front of the group. “I have an idea! What if you sold the bathwater?”

“What?” Adrien stopped short. 

“You know, like online and stuff! You could call it something like… Agreste’s Mineral Bathwater!” Plagg giggled. “Include photos of you shirtless and all that! You’ll make boatloads!”

“No way!” Adrien buried his face in his hands. “Who would buy something like that anyway?”

“Actually--” Sabrina started, but Adrien cut her off. 

“I _don’t_ want to know.”

Chloe couldn’t help laughing at the mental image of Adrien bottling water from the mineral bath, selling it with a label featuring him in a swimsuit. “You know, with a business like that, we could go to Paris for sure!”

“I-- I am _not_ taking you to Paris with my bathwater money!” Adrien sputtered. 

“So you agree that you’ll sell it?” Plagg teased.

“ _No!_ ” 

Chloe only laughed harder as Adrien strode away, fuming. She laughed as he picked up speed, footsteps echoing down the sleeping street until the houses ended and the fields began, laughed until he started to yell into the sky.

“I hate this town!” 

Chloe stopped laughing.

“I hate this life!” 

It seemed then that the night had fallen completely silent, Adrien’s voice hanging in the air above them. The Earth seemed to listen, every wildflower and blade of grass pausing in its great swaying sigh. Even the stars seemed to stare back in anticipation, the moon lending its gleam to Adrien’s hair, golden and glowing and touched by wind. 

“ _Please make me a cute parisienne girl in my next life!_ ” 

Adrien’s cry lingered, ringing clear across the fields and into the sky. Chloe stood frozen with Sabria and Plagg and felt that time had frozen as well, the Earth sitting stunned. After an instant or an eternity (Chloe couldn’t tell which), the grass began to breathe again, crickets resuming their incessant buzz. Plagg sighed, following after his brother and muttering under his breath.

“What a jackass.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> more info about Luxeuil here! if interested. nice little place!  
> https://www.france-voyage.com/tourism/luxeuil-bains-446.htm  
> as always comments/feedback make my heart full  
> thx for reading!!


	2. What a Strange Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Adrien gets his wish

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the delay here, this chapter honestly did not spark as much joy for me as chapter 1 so it was a slog to get through. Also, life. Life gets in the way.  
> Anyway thanks for reading! Hope u enjoy

Adrien drifted awake to the sound of a buzzing alarm. He sighed, listening to the low mumble of the street outside, feeling the sun warm on one cheek and his pillow soft and cool on the other. With a groan, he reached for where he usually kept his phone on the floor beside his mattress. Adrien’s hand fell on empty air. Confused, he reached further, further, finding nothing until--  _ thump.  _ He tumbled out of bed and landed squarely on his back on the hardwood floor. Binging a hand to his now aching head, he stopped. His floor wasn’t wood. His bed, his  _ real  _ bed, wasn’t raised off the ground. And he didn’t use an alarm. 

Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Adrien sat upright and looked around in dismay at this new and unfamiliar place. A bubblegum-pink dresser stared him in the face, strewn with journals, papers, and pens. The soft brown blanket of the bed sagged onto his arm, shining in the sun glowing through the sheer polka-dot curtains above. He’d never seen this room before, of that he was certain. Catching sight of a school uniform crumpled on the floor, his breath caught in his throat. He couldn’t be sure, but it seemed like the uniform had… a skirt? Scooting hesitantly across the floor for a closer look, he found he was right: a neatly pleated skirt lay in a heap atop a white dress shirt and green tie.

Adrien’s heart nearly stopped. He was in a girl’s room, with a girl’s clothes on the floor and no girl in sight. He felt his breath quicken as blood rose to his face, coloring with shame. What impossible mistakes could he have made the night before that had dropped him in this bizarre situation with absolutely no memory of how he got there? It was as Adrien brought his hands up to hide his face that his heart skipped yet another beat. These hands were not his own. 

He stared down at long, slender fingers with neatly manicured nails, so different from his familiar view of narrow, calloused palms. Flipping his (not his?) hands over to study their backs, Adrien saw a dusting of light freckles across smooth skin. He scrambled to his feet, tripping over the discarded uniform in his frantic stumble to the dresser. Gripping its edge, he stared hard into the vanity mirror and gasped. It wasn’t just his hands that had changed. His face, his hair, his body-- they all belonged to somebody else. This new face was framed by soft, dark hair, falling in a shimmering, unbroken wave to his (not his) chest. Delicate lips, rosy cheeks-- Adrien had to admit that whoever she was, this girl was pretty. Though his gaze wandered as he tried to take in his new appearance, he was drawn again and again to his ( _ definitely _ not his) eyes. They were captivating, a blue Adrien could swear was deeper than any he had ever seen. They fascinated him, and it was all he could do not to smack his forehead on the mirror, he had drawn so close.

“Marinette!” The call came from below him, making Adrien jump. He let out a small shout, and jumped again at the sound of his own voice, high and sweet and altogether alien to him. 

“Are you up yet? It was your turn to make breakfast!” The voice came again, this time accompanied by a knocking on the floor a few feet away from him. Adrien moved carefully to the source of the noise and discovered, to his dismay, a trapdoor. With a curious shrug he hoisted it up and started down the ladder beneath, emerging into a small kitchen. A young woman with short pink hair and the same blue eyes as the mystery girl stood at the table, packing a lunch. She raised an eyebrow, and Adrien realized she was probably waiting for him to speak. 

“Ah-- sorry,” He managed, still thrown by his voice. 

“It’s fine.” The woman smiled, stowing the lunch in a bag. “I’m heading out, so the rest is all yours, okay? Eat up, and make sure you get to school even if you’re late, Marinette.” She winked at this, like it was some joke they shared. Was this mystery girl-- Marinette, he supposed-- often late? 

He forced himself to smile back and nod as the woman let herself out of the apartment. As the door closed behind her, Adrien let out a breath he hadn’t known he was holding. These chairs, this table, this food… all of it was foreign to him. At least he hadn’t gotten himself into an uncomfortable situation with a girl, as he’d originally feared. That, however, was small relief when the reality was even stranger: he  _ was _ the girl. Somehow, against all logic, he had been dropped smack in the middle of someone else’s life. 

It had to be a dream. That was the only explanation. Then, if it was a dream, it couldn’t hurt to have a bite of the croissant still steaming on the table. He picked it up gingerly. It felt solid enough. After a moment of hesitation, he took a bite. 

Now Adrien was absolutely sure he was dreaming: he’d never tasted a croissant as good as this one. He groaned involuntarily, shoving the whole thing into his mouth. He nearly choked when a message tone rang out from the bedroom, startling him from his croissant-induced euphoria. He rushed back up the ladder.

As he stumbled into the girl’s messy room, the phone chimed again. Adrien dropped to his knees, feeling for it under the blanket lying slumped on the floor. Hand closing around a reassuringly rectangular object, he felt the phone vibrate again as a third message tone rang out. Pulling it quickly to his face, he saw three messages from someone named Alya. The most recent one read,  **_Get going, girl! You’re late!_ **

Adrien smacked his forehead. Of course he was late! Wasn’t that what the pink haired lady had said as well?  _ “Get to school, even if you’re late.”  _ He realized he didn’t even know what day it was. All that mattered was that it was, apparently, a school day. In a burst of frantic energy, Adrien pulled on the crumpled school uniform, dashed around the apartment in search of anything that might be needed for school-- pink backpack, drawstring purse, case of pencils-- and burst out onto the sidewalk. Leaning back against the closed door, he heaved a sigh for what felt like the hundredth time that morning. Whether it was a sigh of relief or simply exhaustion, he couldn’t tell. He kept his eyes trained on his unfamiliar feet in their unfamiliar soft-soled, pink-toed shoes and gathered his thoughts. Blowing his silky new bangs out of his face, he looked up, stepping confidently away from the apartment door, toward whatever else was in store for him-- and stopped short. 

Above him soared terraces and balconies on all sides. The sun gleamed on tall glass-covered buildings, and ivy crawled up stone storefronts, fluttering in the breeze. Cars, bikes, and mopeds alike sped down the street. Beyond all this Adrien caught sight of something he had only ever seen in pictures, and his breath caught in his throat. 

The Eiffel Tower.

Adrien’s heart leaped. He was in Paris!

He stepped forward again, carried by the elation blooming in his chest. Paris! He could hardly imagine it, and yet-- he was here! He smiled as the breeze flew past his face, grimaced at the smells of the city it brought with it, then laughed once more at what a scene he must have been making. His steps slowed and he spun in a circle, trying desperately to take everything in. His outstretched arms were jostled by passersby, sending him into another fit of laughter. How wonderful it all was! To be in a  _ crowd _ ! A crowd where nobody knew him, nobody knew his father… he wasn’t the mayor’s son, he wasn’t the boy from the bath house. He was free. He was…

He was a girl. 

He was dreaming. 

Adrien’s face fell. For a moment, it had all seemed so real he had forgotten that what he was experiencing couldn’t possibly be true. The buildings looked just like they did in all the pictures he’d seen, but the fact that he was seeing them at all was proof that this was, indeed, a dream. 

It was so strange. Dreaming of Paris, in a girl’s body… a girl who was late for school! The strangeness of the situation, coupled with the stress of being late, threatened to overwhelm him. Adrien supposed he should at least try to get to school, if only to ease that stress. Wasn’t that the logic of dreams, after all? Follow along with whatever preposterous guidelines the brain provides, no matter how impossible it all may seem upon waking. 

The only problem was that Adrien had absolutely no idea where to even start. He looked around frantically for a moment, picking a direction and beginning to walk. Before long, the excitement of being in Paris (of all places!) overtook him once more, and he was making his way merrily down the street. All concern for getting to school fled as he took in the sights and sounds and  _ feelings  _ all around him. The city was bigger in every way than he’d ever imagined it to be: more people, more buildings, more cars… as he squeezed past a crowd of tourists on the sidewalk, something caught his eye. It was a uniform, one that looked just like the one he was wearing! Excitedly, he hurried closer to see a whole group of students just like him milling around a schoolyard and on the steps of an imposing-looking building. This must be it! 

He climbed the steps with excitement, staring in wonder. This school was much bigger and shinier than his own. Adrien peered cautiously through a classroom door, the sounds of chattering students and shuffling feet swimming all around him. He hesitated to enter, feeling he’d lost some of the spellbound momentum that had pushed him until this point. Now that he had made the journey across the city to the school… what was his next step?

Without warning, an arm slung around Adrien’s shoulder, and he jumped. Before he could say anything, the owner of the arm spun him around, already talking away.

“Marinette! Hey girl!” Before him stood a young woman sporting large glasses and soft brown hair that faded to red at the ends. “Can’t believe you got in at noon! Did Tikki not wake you up in time?” the girl started down the hallway, arm still around Adrien’s shoulders.

Adrien opened his mouth to speak, but she continued over him. 

“Wait, don’t tell me-- your phone died, so you missed your alarm! That’s why you didn’t reply to any of my texts!” She effortlessly steered him through the maze of students to the top of a tall staircase that led down into the schoolyard Adrien had seen before. 

As they descended the stairs, a puzzle piece fell into place in Adrien’s mind. If this was the person who had texted him this morning, then…

“Alya?” He said the name he’d seen on the screen aloud.

She stopped mid-step, turning to give him a quizzical look. “Yeah? What?” 

“Nothing! Just trying to get a word in edgewise,” he joked.

Alya gave a short laugh and turned back to the schoolyard, continuing down the stairs. “Very funny. You can talk all you want in a minute, Nino’s waiting!”

Adrien felt a rush of pride. He’d correctly guessed the girl’s identity-- and he’d made her laugh! He wasn’t sure what had caused him to joke like that, but the fact that it had been well received made him determined to try it again. 

Under a basketball hoop in the schoolyard, a boy with close-cropped dark hair and a colorful baseball cap stood waving at them. Alya veered towards him, so Adrien followed. This must be Nino! 

The three of them sat down, and Alya gave Adrien’s-- Marinette’s-- shoulder a playful shove. 

“This girl was later than ever today! She just got here!” 

Nino raised a curious eyebrow. “Oh yeah? What happened?”

Adrien felt himself mirror Nino’s expression, raising his own eyebrow in return. “It’s a secret.”

Alya’s eyes widened as Nino laughed. 

“Seriously?” 

Adrien smiled at their laughter, feeling happier than he had in a while. “No, I’m kidding. I just got lost.”

“What? How?” Nino looked confused.

“W-well, you know,” Adrien began, “a guy-- I mean, a dude-- I mean--” he stumbled over his words, trying to think of a reason for getting lost. “A gal just wants to have fun. Every day feels like a movie when you’re living in Paris! Why not wander around a little?”

Alya chuckled. “I guess. Girl, you’re acting mega strange. And where’s your lunch?”

Adrien gasped, realizing he’d forgotten all about lunch. “M-my… my lunch?”

“Hey, don’t worry about it.” Nino clapped a hand on Adrien’s shoulder, turning to peer into Alya’s lunch bag. “We can share with you.” He reached inside the bag, fixing up something Adrien couldn’t see before presenting a sandwich to him with a smile. 

“What? You don’t need to--” Adrien started.

Alya cut him off. “Hush! It’s on us. A lovely croquette-egg sandwich!”

Adrien took the sandwich and smiled to himself, admiring it in his unfamiliar, slender hands. Marinette’s friends were good people. He found himself hoping that someday they could be his friends too. The thought warmed him, and he took a bite of the sandwich with a sigh, pushing away the small voice in his head that kept reminding him that this was just a dream, these people weren’t real. 

“Anyway,” Nino mumbled around a bite of his lunch, “I’m free all afternoon. Want to hit the café today?”

“Oh, sure,” Alya shrugged. “Which one?”

Adrien’s eyes widened. “A café?” He dropped his sandwich in surprise, leaning closer to Nino. “For real? You’re kidding! Where?”

“Uh, yes for real?” Nino gave Adrien a quizzical look. “The one we always go to, just down the street.”

Adrien burst out in joyful laughter. He couldn’t help it. Ignoring the strange glances the others gave him, he picked his sandwich up from the ground and dug in a bit overzealously. He was going to a café! 

It was all Adrien could do to make it through the rest of his classes before the end of the school day. He tried to take notes in some lectures to no avail, distracted again and again by his excitement. As he followed Alya out of their science classroom at long last, he was almost floating with anticipation. Meeting up with Nino in the schoolyard, Adrien let his two new friends (he had decided to call him his friends, because if he was Marinette and they were Marinette’s friends, then weren’t they his own after all?) lead the way to the café. 

A little bell rang as they opened the door, and Adrien let out a small gasp admiring the shining storefront window as he entered. Alya picked a table, and Nino pulled the seats out for all of them. Adrien couldn’t stop staring. The patrons, the decorations, the menu-- everything held a cosmopolitan allure. 

Seeing the others pick up their menus, Adrien followed suit, and gasped as he caught sight of the prices.

“What the-- I could live for a whole month on what these crêpes cost!”

Alya regarded him with narrowed eyes over the edge of her menu. “Um, maybe a decade ago?”

Adrien laughed. “You’re right. I guess things really are more expensive in the city!” He continued to peruse the menu, barely registering the look Alya and Nino exchanged across the table. Deciding on the expensive crêpes, Adrien sighed happily. “Oh well! It’s only a dream!”

There were dogs panting at the table adjacent to them, waitresses folding napkins into fancy shapes, and more. There was so much to see inside the cafe, not to mention the hustle and bustle out on the street that Adrien could catch through the window. He was thoroughly entertained until his crêpes were placed in front of him, and after he took his first bite they were all he could focus on. Savoring each forkful slowly, he thought he was happier than he could remember feeling in a long time. 

An alarm tone on Marinette’s phone jolted him from his last bit of whipped cream, and he gasped as he looked at the screen:  _ Work, 16:00. _

“Aw, dude,” Nino sighed. “Don’t tell me you’re still working too many shifts! You need to give yourself a break!”

Alya nodded, waving her fork in Adrien’s direction. “Yeah! You need time to relax!”

This was interesting. Did Marinette work too much? Regardless of the amount of hours she worked, it dawned on Adrien that he had a much bigger problem.

“Um, guys?” He began fidgeting with his napkin. “Where do I work?”

Alya’s mouth fell open, and Nino stopped short with a bite of falafel halfway to his lips. 

“You’re kidding,” Alya deadpanned, setting her fork down in exasperation. “You’re just messing with us, right? I mean, you’ve been acting really weird all day, but this…”

Adrien could only shrug in response. 

“You really don’t know?” Nino gaped. “You can’t have forgotten about the bakery!”

“The bakery?”

Alya rolled her eyes. “Yeah, the bakery. It’s right down the street, big yellow storefront, can’t miss it.”

That was all Adrien needed to hear. He tore out of the café, racing down the street. His heartbeat pounded with both exertion and excitement. He had a job! At a bakery in Paris, no less! He was determined to give it his all. 

He had run far enough without seeing a yellow storefront that he began to worry he’d set off in the wrong direction, but just as the thought crossed his mind he caught a glimmer of yellow in the distance and accelerated his stride. Drawing closer, he breathed a sigh of relief as he read the lettering above the wide, shining windows that read: Boulangerie & Pâtisserie. This was it. 

He burst through the door, panting, only to realize he had no idea what to do next. Luckily, before Adrien could flounder too much, a young man behind the counter waved to him, flashing a wide smile and beckoning him across the seating area. Bracelets slid up and down his arm as he did so, clicking softly as they collided.

“Marinette!” the man laughed, leaning across the top of a glass display case filled with delicious-looking pastries. “You just barely made it! Better get back there, we’re getting ready for the dessert rush!”

Adrien smiled back, making his way around the display. “I can’t wait!” 

“That’s the spirit!” The man pushed his hair back with a grin, and Adrien couldn’t help but stare for a moment. His hair was dark and soft, brightening to aqua blue at the ends. Nobody in Luxeuil had colorful hair like that. It took some effort for him to tear his eyes away and start heading through the door toward what he could only assume was the kitchen.

“Wait!” 

Adrien felt a hand on his arm, and he paused, turning back around with a questioning look.

“Don’t forget your apron, Marinette.” The man held out a black apron with Marinette’s name embroidered neatly on the front. “Wouldn’t want to get your school uniform dirty.”

“Oh! Of course!” Adrien took the apron, tying it around his unfamiliar, slim waist. “Thank you, um…” he looked down to see the name sewn onto his new friend’s identical apron.  _ Luka. _ “Thank you, Luka.”

“Anytime.” 

And with that, Adrien began his first shift as a baker. As it turned out, making pastries wasn’t quite as easy as he’d hoped it would be. After bustling around in the kitchen for hours, he had only managed to cover himself in flour and, regrettably, burn the top of his wrist when placing a batch of scones in the oven. His coworkers seemed understanding, though, for which Adrien was grateful. 

Rose, a petite blonde girl with the widest eyes Adrien had ever seen, never stopped giving him gentle encouragement when he couldn’t remember where he’d placed his measuring cups or when he knocked a bowl of rising dough off the counter. His two other coworkers, Juleka and Kagami, were both relatively quiet. While Juleka’s silence seemed cool and timid, Kagami’s held a charged intensity. Adrien couldn’t decide if it scared or impressed him. Kagami had been the only one to chide him for his ineptitude, with a short “ _ watch it, Marinette _ .”

Surprisingly, Kagami was also the one who took him aside after he burned his wrist, running it under the faucet and wrapping it gently in a cool cloth. She led him from the kitchen without speaking, joining Luka behind the counter in the front of the store. Kagami gave Luka a polite nod and led Adren to the far end of the counter, regarding him with concern. 

“Marinette.” Kagami’s voice was soft, her tone measured. “I don’t know what’s going on with you today, but I know you’re capable of greater precision than this. If anything is bothering you, I’m always here to listen.”

Adrien simply nodded, unsure how to respond, feeling a strange combination of anxiety and gratitude. 

“You’re a good baker. I know you are. I know you can act like one.” Kagami smiled an almost imperceptible smile, starting back toward the kitchen. “You should rest for a bit because of your wrist. Come back in when you’re ready.”

Adrien watched her go. Her faith in him was comforting, even if it was misplaced. This mysterious girl, this  _ Marinette _ was a good baker, not him. Marinette, the girl with friends everywhere she went, the girl who could make even someone as intense as Kagami share kind words… she must be a truly amazing person, Adrien thought. 

He was interrupted from his thoughts by a commotion over at Luka’s end of the counter. A couple of men seemed to be giving him a hard time about something, but Adrien couldn’t tell what. He stepped closer, taking in the men’s agitated faces and tuning in to their argument.

“There’s a toothpick in this éclair!” one man was saying, gesticulating wildly. Adrien squinted as the man’s shining cufflink caught the light. 

“Yeah,” the other man chimed in, adjusting his tie. “What would have happened if we ate that? I’ve half a mind to--”

“Is everything okay over here?” Adrien interrupted, stepping up beside Luka. He refused to stand by and watch whatever was happening here-- most likely two rich jerks with nothing else to do giving others a hard time for fun. Having just spent three hours in the bakery’s kitchen, Adrien was sure there were no toothpicks used in any of the pastries, let alone in the kitchen at all. He wasn’t going to let them lie their way to a free pastry that they could easily pay for.

“Marinette,” Luka started, but Adrien smiled and shook his head.

“Don’t worry about me.” He turned back to the men, letting his (Marinette’s) hair fall over his shoulder in a way he hoped was alluring. “Is there a problem here, boys?” He wasn’t sure if calling them “boys” was too much, but if there was a way to end this conflict without fighting Adrien was going to take it.

“Well, we--”

“Indeed--”

The men talked over each other, but Adrien kept going. 

“You both look like men of expensive taste. Thank you for choosing our bakery. I’m sure if there’s any sort of problem, we can make it up to you.” Adrien smiled sweetly.

“Miss, I paid for this eclair, but it--” One man started. 

“Ah, I see,” Adrien cut in, giving what he hoped was a sympathetic pout. “Unfortunately, I can’t refund food items that have already been sold, but I can offer you a box of our signature macarons at a discount.” He was just winging this, trying to sweet-talk the men until they either gave in and bought something or gave up and left. 

Sure enough, the men exchanged a look and began to back away from the counter. 

“Maybe another time,” sneered one. 

The bakery door jingled as they left. 

Adrien let out a sigh and turned back to Luka, who raised an eyebrow.

“Thanks.” 

“No problem,” Adrien replied. “It’s what I’m here for-- just charming jerks left and right. Or annoying them. Whichever works.”

Luka laughed, shaking his head. “You’re a real gem.”

Adrien smiled. He wasn’t sure why he hadn’t just let Luka handle the situation, but something about having the chance to stand up for someone had spoken to Adrien. In his normal life, he rarely even had the courage to stand up for himself, he realized. So, here in this strange vivid dream… he could make a difference. 

For the rest of his shift, Adrien worked in the kitchen with a renewed sense of determination, and by the end of the day he was feeling pretty proud of the cupcakes he’d managed to frost with only one hand. With Kagami re-wrapping his wrist every half hour or so with a new cool cloth, Adrien’s burn was feeling a lot better. Juleka and Rose left around an hour before closing, so Kagami, Luka, and Adrien were left to lock up.

The three of them left the bakery together. The sun had set on the city, just a wisp of orange on the horizon. As Adrien marveled at the way the buildings shone in the dying light, Kagami muttered something about catching the métro and hurried off with a nod. Adrien was trying fruitlessly to remember the way back to the apartment where he’d started his journey, when Luka tapped him on the shoulder. 

“Going home, Marinette? Mind if I walk with you?”

Adrien shook his head. “No, of course! Lead the way.” That was a relief. Hopefully he could just follow Luka into a part of town that he remembered-- if he could remember at all. Waking up in Marinette’s apartment felt so long ago. 

The two of them fell into step together, weaving through pedestrians as they made their way down the sidewalk. The sun slipped lower and lower, the sky fading to an ashy grey as the streetlamps turned on above them. After a few minutes, Luka broke their silence.

“I know I already said it, but thanks again for sticking up for me back there. You didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to!” Adrien smiled. “It seemed like the right thing to do.”

Luka chuckled. “Well, it was very nice of you, but I was a little surprised. I mean it when I say you didn’t have to. I could have just handled it according to the employee manual.”

“I guess, but I--”

“And, to be honest,” Luka continued, heedless of Adrien’s protests, “I have to say I was a little nervous for you, Marinette. You’re quick to defend those you care about, but… from what I’ve seen you haven’t always been able to find the right words to do so. I was worried today would be like that too, but you pulled it off! Looks like you’ve got a charming side.”

“You mean I’m not always charming?” Adrien laughed.

“You know what I meant. Maybe it’s more like… a suave side.” 

“A suave side.” Adrien pondered the concept. “I like it.” 

They walked in comfortable silence for a few more minutes, until Adrien spotted a building that looked familiar. 

“I think this is me!” He drew closer to the door and breathed a sigh of relief. This dream sure did feel real, right down to the exhaustion he felt seeing home at the end of a long day. 

“Right, then! See you tomorrow for opening.” Luka saluted, his bracelets clicking again as he walked away. 

Adrien fished in Marinette’s purse for the key he prayed was still there, and, finding it without a problem, wearily entered the apartment. There was no sign of the pink-haired woman… Tikki? That was what Alya had called her. That was fine by Adrien; he didn’t think he could talk to anyone else right now. He made his way up the ladder and through Marinette’s trapdoor, dropping her bags on the floor and collapsing onto her futon. 

He examined her hands again, checking on his burn. It still stung deeply. Her slender wrist fascinated him, and now that he wasn’t preoccupied with work or school, Adrien let himself wonder at her body, his consciousness, and the intersection of the two. What a strange thing to dream. 

All at once, the sight of his class notebook came unbidden to his mind, and the strange message written there:  _ Who are you _ ? He’d suspected Sabrina and Chloé of messing with him, but could there be a possibility something more was going on? It was a silly thought, but all the same…

Adrien rose from the futon and made his way to Marinette’s dresser. Looking through the drawers, he found what he was looking for: a pen. Carefully, he wrote on the palm of his uninjured hand:  _ Adrien. _

There. In case someone really was wondering who he was… he felt dizzy even thinking about it, so he turned his attention back to the desk drawers. Along with the pen, he found a journal and a handful of pictures: some of Marinette smiling radiantly with Alya and Nino, some of people Adrien didn’t recognize, and a couple of Luka.

Looking around the room, he could see that among the sketches and posters that lined the walls, there were more pictures of Luka mixed in: Luka washing down tables, Luka smiling from across the counter, Luka bagging up a pastry to go… Adrien smiled. It looked like Marinette had a crush. With that in mind, he had an idea.

Going back into the drawer, he pulled out the journal. Sure enough, skimming through he found it was a typical diary filled with daily thoughts and events. With a smile, he found the next free page and began to write. 

_ Walked home with Luka today after work, thanks to my suave side! _

Adrien yawned. It was time for him to get some sleep. Stowing the journal back in the drawer, he climbed into Marinette’s bed. As he drifted off, a smile found its way across his lips. Just before he slipped away, he thought he’d never met anyone quite so intriguing as Marinette. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again! Thanks so much for reading. updates should be more regular at least for the next 2 chapters because that's where I'm putting my focus this month.


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